


when the road darkens (a song for our fathers)

by theladyscribe



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Community: kamikazeremix, Gen, Remix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-27
Updated: 2010-09-27
Packaged: 2017-11-01 20:01:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/360680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theladyscribe/pseuds/theladyscribe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel has never given up on anything before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	when the road darkens (a song for our fathers)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [when the road darkens](https://archiveofourown.org/works/90152) by [inkandchocolate](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkandchocolate/pseuds/inkandchocolate). 



Castiel looks for God. He searches high and low, near and far, weaving in and out and between the threads of time and space and existence, clutching Dean Winchester's amulet the entire time. If he were in human guise, the features of the horned mask would have left an indelible mark in the palm of his hand from gripping it so tightly.

His task is an impossible one, he is becoming more and more certain. Dean tells him it sounds like a Hail Mary, and when he answers that Mary the mother of Jesus already told him she did not know where God has gone, Dean just rolls his eyes and mutters something about football. Castiel would ask what Mary has to do with football, but just then he catches a whisper of _gloria_ and is swept off to Paris. It was only a whisper, though, and if God has ever been there, He is gone long before Castiel arrives. It is just the latest in a series of frustrations, all of which make his search more and more difficult.

He stays in Europe anyway, just in case, then follows a hint to the Holy Land. There, he finds only anger and frustration, and if God is there, He is well-hidden.

In India, the Hindu gods laugh when he explains his search. Kali tells him that if God ever sets foot in Her territory, She will tear Him limb from limb for everything His people have brought to Hers. He bows his head and takes his leave on fleet wings, traipsing through less dangerous places, asking small deities in Pacific islands and throughout eastern Asia if they have seen anything resembling his Father.

None of them have, and it is on his way back to North America--

Castiel stumbles when he hears of - _feels_ \- the deaths of the Winchesters. Two shots, and the world is that much darker, more sinister. He immediately seeks them in Heaven, hoping against hope he can find them before Zachariah or anyone else can.

He does, but he cannot help them there. He instead flies to where their bodies lie, keeping watch in fervent hope that they will be returned.

They are, but with devastating news. The God Castiel has sought for so long, through time and space, has been hiding here, on Earth, refusing to be found by anyone, human or immortal. The emotion he feels can only be described as defeat.

Later, much later, when that hotel room in Nevada is miles and miles in the rearview, Dean asks him, "Cas, could you maybe explain to me again in small words why you're suddenly off the God train?"

Castiel has never given up on anything before. It is not in the nature of angels to do so. They are designed, after all, to fulfill their Father's mission and to bring messages to His other children, to humanity. Both of these were far easier milennia ago, when most of the world believed in angels and demons as physical beings, not just as parts of a cosmic myth. Now, though, both are just figments of imagination, the stuff of dreams, things that even the most devout believers have come to consider euphemisms for the inherent dichotomy of human nature: good and evil. It is only when people are faced with their terrible power that they have no choice but to believe.

Even Dean, who has become, in some strange way, the most fervent believer Castiel has ever met, did not believe in angels until he came face to face with one.

Castiel has never actually seen God. No one has, except a handful of angels and some humans who were unlucky enough to be chosen for a greater purpose.

"Why should I believe in something I have not ever seen?" he asks quietly, quirking a small smile when Dean jumps at the sound of his voice.

"But--" Dean sighs.

"God is out there," Castiel continues, staring blankly out the window. "But from what Joshua told you, He doesn't care whether this war is stopped or not. He has left you - left _us_ \- out to dry, or forgotten us entirely. He is not interfering, and so everything that you have fought for will come to an end. How can I continue to have faith in Someone who cannot even be bothered to tell me this Himself?"

Dean doesn't respond, but when Castiel turns to look at him, he can practically read the man's thoughts on his face. He has hit a nerve; it was not so long ago that John Winchester, too, disappeared, leaving his children with no instruction, no aid. Faith, perhaps, is all Dean Winchester has ever had.

Sam, still asleep in the back seat, shifts, making the vinyl squeak. Dean glances back at him, relaxing the hard-eyed squint that comes from hours of night driving.

They ride in silence, time measured in mile-markers. Castiel fades in and out of awareness, the hum of tires on asphalt soothing to his weary soul.

It is only when the grey light of dawn begins to creep over the world that Dean finally says, "What if Joshua got the message wrong, Cas?"

Castiel frowns. "I do not think Joshua would give you false information."

"No, but what if he's wrong? Like - like the telephone game, where you start off with one message and by the time it reaches the end of the line, it sounds completely different, even though each person was repeating what they were told."

"The telephone game."

Dean huffs. "Just, think about it. What did we tell you he said?"

"God will not intervene in the apocalypse."

"Any more. God will not intervene _any more_." Dean looks at him, eyes still tight, but something close to a smirk on his face. "That means he’s intervened already."

"So?"

"So maybe we have everything it'll take to stop this already. Maybe God knows we can handle it." He has a full smirk now, and the first rays of actual sun are just brightening the horizon. "We _are_ pretty badass."

The comment makes Castiel smile, even if he does not think it true. 


End file.
